Jaws: A Short Story

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The great monochrome beast rose from the dark water in an explosion of little droplets flying through the air. Ripples of water expanded from its rearing head, choppy water disrupting their path as they circled the shark. Its mouth opened in a terrifying display of snaggle teeth and the cavernous reaches of its own belly. Its rough pink gums hit the color scheme conformity of the scene straight in the analogous jaw. The blow defenestrated it, its metaphorical blood staining the pavement. A different sort of blood — the non-allegorical kind, that is — smeared its rough skin and dripped from its gaping maw. The shark had fed, and recently too. Cold, black eyes stared at the world, taking in the harsh breeze and the gray sky. A tooth was lost

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